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GLEANINGS 



FROM 



POETIC FIELDS 



^ranelations 



FROM THE GERMAN AND OTHER LANGUAGES 

AND 



©riginal IDereee 



BYy/ 
ROBERT TILNEY 




PHILADELPHIA 
JOHN C. WINSTON & CO. 



2nd COPY, 4\?c.^'^^ 
1898. , ;i>n61898 

TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 



75 3^i1 



"j6M8 



Copyright, 1898 
By Robert Tilney 



THIS 

LITTLE VOLUME 

IS 

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 

TO THE 

LOVED ONES 

WHOSE 

SYMPATHY AND ENX'OURAGEMENT 

HAVE BEEN THE 

INSPIRATION 

OF MANY OF JTS PAGES 



VENVOI, 

Go, little booh, thou dream of years, 

Conceived in days long past; 
Unconscious source of hopes and fears 

I send thee forth at last ! ■ 
What happy hours on thee were spent, 

Wfiat trlu?nphs I recall, 
What Joys when stubborn lines were bent, 

I cannot count them all. 
My pleasure will not brooh alloy, 

For if it may so be, 
I wish that all may share the joy 

Thy making gave to me. 
If pleasure from thy use appears, 

If hearts are happy made. 
The pleasing toil of many years 

Will amply be repaid. 



CONTENTS. 



TEANSLATIONS. 

From the German : — page 

The Minstrel' « Curse irhkmd 3 

The Castle by the Sea Uhland 9 

The Richest Prince Kerner 11 

The Erl-kiug Qoethe 13 

The Dying Flower Muckert 15 

The Shepherd's Sabbath Song . . . Uhland 19 

The Maiden's Lament Schiller 20 

The Horseman and Lake Constance . Schwab 22 

The Minstrel Goethe 26 

Lelshazzar's Feast Heine 28 

Mignon Goethe 81 

My Fatherland Komer 32 

Farewell to Life Komer 34 

The Lost Chnrcia Uhland 35 



viii CONTENTS. 



PAGE 



From the German [continued). 

Tlie Beggar and His Dog .... Chamisso 38 

The Blind King Uhland 41 

The Landlady's Daughter .... Uhland 45 

The King's Daughter Uhland 46 

The Sailor's Wife Wys, Jr. 48 

Kemembrance Matthison 49 

The Kobber Prufz 51 

The Song of the Mountain Boy . . Uhland 55 

Castle Eoneourt Chamisso 57 

Tlie German Knight's Ave . . Geibel .. 59 

The Goldsmith's Daughter .... Uhland 62 

The Lorelei ^ferT*^ 66 

On the Death of a Child .... Uhland 67 

The Dead Soldier Anon. 68 

From the French : — 

Memory's Blossom Milleroye 73 

The Dying Christian Lamartins 75 



CONTENTS. ix 

PAGK 

Fkom the Swedish : — 

Resignation VH(dii> 77 

Nearer Home Anon. 78 



Fkom the NoRWEC4IAN : — 

Arne's Song Bjonison 80 

From Horace : — 

To the Fountain BanJusia 85 

To Augustus 86 

To His Servant 89 

To the Ship Bearing Virgil 90 

To L. Sextius 92 

To Melpomene 94 

OEIGINAL VERSES 

A Dream 97 

Invitation 105 

To Mary 107 



I CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Original Verses {conUnued). 

Evening Thoughts lOD 

Consolation Ill 

Supplication 113 

The Inner vSanctuary 115 

A Christinas Carol 117 

The Shepherd of Israel 120 

The Twenty-third Psalm 122 

The Lord's Prayer 126 

Fairhill 127 

The Chain oi English Song 138 

The Days of Long Ago 135 

School Davs at Oxford 137 



TKANSLATIONS FEOM THE 
GERMAN. 



THE MINSTREL'S CURSE. 

(Uhland.) 

FTIHERE stood of old a castle, so high and stately 
-^ too ; 

It gleamed the wide land over and e'en to ocean blue : 
A blooming wreath encircled of fragrant gardens 

rare ; 
And, decked in rainbow splendor, fresh fountains 

sprang in air. 

There reigned a haughty monarch, in lands and con- 
quests great ; 

He sat, all pale and gloomy, enthroned in fearful 
state ; 

For what he thought was a^^d'ul ; of rage, each glance, 
a flood ; 

And what he spake was scathing ; and what he wrote 
was blood ! 



4 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Ouce journeyed to that castle a noble minstrel pair ; 
The one in golden tresses, but gray the other's hair : 
With harp in hand the elder, a handsome palfrey 

rode, 
While by his side the younger, with nimble footsteps 

strode. 

Now said the elder minstrel, " Be well prepared, my 
son ; 

Our noblest songs remember, break forth in fullest 
tone; 

Exert thy wondrous power ; now joy, now pain im- 
part ; 

To-day 'tis our high mission to move the king's hard 
heart." 

In that high hall of columns s(^on stood the minstrel 
pair ; 

There, on the throne were sitting, the king and con- 
sort fair : 

The king in fearful splendor, like the blood-red 
northern light ! 

The queen, so sweet and gentle, as shines the full 
moon bright. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 5 

The old man struck the harp-strings with wondrous 

skill, and clear 
And sweet and strong, rose, richly, the sound upon 

the ear ; 
Tlieii did the yomig man's accents w^ith heavenly 

clearness flow ; 
The old man sung in concert, like spirit- chorus, low. 

They sang of love and spring-time ; of golden days 

that bless ; 
Of manly worth and freedom ; of truth and holiness ; 
Of all the sweet emotions that thrilled the human 

breast ; 
Of all high aspirations that human hearts impressed. 

The courtier throng surrounding forgot to scoff and 
jeer ; 

The king's brave, trusty warriors bowed low in rever- 
ent fear ; 

In joy and grief commingled, the queen, too, sore 



Threw down before the minstrels the rose from off 
her breast. 



6 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC! FIELDS. 

' ' You have misled my people ; would you now be- 
guile my wife?" 

Thus cried the king in fury ; he shook with passion's 
strife ; 

He drew his sword, which, flashing, the young man's 
breast pierced through, 

From whence, not golden music, but streams of red 
blood flew. 

The listening throng was scattered as though 'twere 

by a storm ; 
Dead lay the youthful minstrel upon his master's arm ; 
He wrapped him in his mantle, he raised him on his 

horse. 
Erect he bound him firmly, then homeward shaped 

his course. 

But at the gateway halting, the gray-haired minstrel 
threw 

Against a marble column, his matchless harp ; it flew 

To pieces there, and, shrilly, with a voice that, far 
and wide. 

Through hall and gardens echoed, the maddened min- 
strel cried — 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 7 

' ' Oh woe ! ye halls so lofty, uo song nor harp's sweet 
sound 

Through all your spacious chambers shall e'er again 
resound ; 

Nay, naught but sighs and groanings, and slave- 
hood's crouching way. 

Until the avenging Fury bring ruin and decay ! 

" And woe! ye fragrant gardens, in May-light soft 

and fair ; 
I show the ghastly features of the dead man sitting 

there, 
That thereby ye may wither, your crystal springs 

grow dry. 
And through all coming ages in desolation lie ! 

''And woe! thou godless murderer, thou curse of 

minstrelsy, 
Thy strifes for bloody fame-wreaths are all in vain 

to thee : 
Thy name shall be forgotten when in endless night 

'tis tossed, 
As dying groans, forever, in empty air are lost." 



8 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

The old man thus invoking, the heaven's dread an- 
swer falls : 

The walls to dust are crumbled, demolished are the 
halls ; 

There stands but one high column to speak of grand- 
eur past. 

E'en this, already shattered, another night may cast. 

Instead of fragrant gardens — a desolate barren land ! 
No tree dispenses shadow, no spring bursts thro' the 

sand : 
No song, no book of heroes, that king's name now 

rehearse, 
All vanished and forgotten! behold, the Minstrel's 

Curse ! 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 



THE CASTLE BY THE SEA. 

(Uhland.) 

TJ AVE you that Castle noticed ? 
-*--*- That Castle by the sea : 
The clouds that sail above it 
So red and golden be. 

It seems as though 'twere stooping 

Into the crystal tide ; 
And now, seems struggling upward 

Mid glowing clouds to hide. 

' ' Yes, truly, have I seen it, 
That Castle by the sea : 
The moon above it standing. 
And mists that round it be." 

Did wind and waving waters 
Go with glad sound along ? 

From those high halls perceived you 
Glad music? festive song? 



10 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

" The winds and billows also 
Lay in profound repose : 
A dirge from out those chambers 
I heard, while tears arose." 

Did you the king and consort, 
Walking above, behold ? 

Their crimson mantles waving, 
Beaming their crowns of gold ? 

Led they not forth with gladness 
A maiden young and fair? 

Glorious as the sunlight ! 
With radiant golden hair ? 

"Ah ! yes, I saw the parents 

Without their crowns so rare, 

And clad in robes of mourning ; 

The maiden — was not there." 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 11 



THE RICHEST PRINCE. 

(JuKTiNus Keener.) 

"DOASTING of the worth and number 
'^ Of their lands in glowing terms, 
Once sat many German princes 
In th' Imperial Hall at Worms. 

" Glorious is the land I govern," 
Saxony's ruler first maintains ; 

" Deep within its teeming mountains. 
Silver lies in num'rous veins." 

" See in mine, luxuriant fulness," 
Said th' Elector of the Rhine : 

'*■ Golden cornfields in the valleys, 

On the mountains, matchless wine. " 

" Cities great and cloisters wealthy," 

Lewis of Bavaria held ; 
'' Prove my land, in power and treasures, 

Is by none of yours excelled." 



12 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Eberhard — with beard so ample — 

Wurtemberg's beloved lord, 
Said, " My realm hath smaller cities ; 

Bear its hills no silver hoard ; 

** Yet it holds, concealed, a jewel ; 
Though in vastest woods I stray, 
In the lap of any subject 
I my head can safely lay ! '^ 

Then exclaimed the lords of Saxony 
And Bavaria and the Khine : 
' ' Bearded Count, thou art the richest ! 
Bears the palm — that land of thine ! " 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 13 



THE ERL-KING. 

(Goethe.) 

TITHO rides so late through the night-wind wild ? 
^^ A father is riding and bearing his child ; 
The boy is closely embraced by his arm, 
He holds him securely, he keeps him warm. 

'' My son, why hid'st thou thy face in fear?" 
" Oh see'st thou not, father, the Erl-King near ? 
The Erl-King ! with crown and train ?" " My son, 
A streak of the mist — it is that alone." 

" Thou lovely child j come, go thou with me. 
Delightful games ivill I play ivith thee : 
On yonder shore many flowers unfold ; 
My mother hath many a dress of gold." 

" My father, my father, and dost thou not hear 
What Erl-King is whisp'ring low in my ear?" 
" Oh calm now thy fears ; be quiet, my child ; 
The dry leaves are swept by the night-wind wild." 



14 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

" Oh beautiful child, wilt thou go with me f 

My daughters shall wait on thee prettily ; 

In nightly dance they shall lead thee, and keep, 

And rock thee and dayice thee, and sing thee to sleep.^' 

' ' My father, my father, and seest thou not 
The Erl-King's daughters in yonder dark spot ?" 
"My son, my son, I see nothing, I say. 
But olden willows that look so gray." 

" / love thee, am charmed by thy form so fine ; 
And art thou not willing, by force thou art mine /" 
" My father, my father, now grasps he thy son ; 
The Erl-King, to me, hath an injury done." 

The father shuddered, rode rapidly on, 

And held in his arms his moaning son ; 

But when he reached home, in pain and in dread, 

Alas ! in his arms, the child lay dead. 



TRANSLATION'S FROM THE GERMAN. 15 



THE DYING FLOWER. 

(RtJCKEET.) 

TTOPE ! thou yet shalt live to see 
^ All the spring's returning joys. 

Know'st thou not, thus every tree 
Hopes, when autumn wind destroys, 

That the bleak long winter through, 
In their strength its buds may rest ; 

Till the sap shall start anew. 
And with bright, new green 'tis drest? 

''Ah ! I am no sturdy tree. 

That a thousand summers lives ; 
Dreamed each winter dream will be, 

Spring then fresh bright verdure gives. 
But a lowly flower am I, 

Called to life by kiss of May : 
When beneath the snows I lie 

Every trace has passed away." 



16 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Since thou, then, a flow'ret be — 

Modest is thy mind indeed — 
Let this knowledge comfort thee, 

All that blossom carry seed ; 
Let the death storm far and near 

Scatter then thy pollen-gold, 
From thy seed shalt thou appear. 

Self -renewed — a hundredfold. 

'' Yes, when time myself shall glean, 

Like myself shall others rise ; 
Thus the whole is ever green, 

'Tis the single one that dies. 
If what I was, now are they, 

Then am I myself no more ; 
Thus I only live to-day. 

Naught behind me, naught before. 

' ' That the sunbeam they receive 
Is the same that shines on me. 
My hard lot does not relieve, 
Doomed to night's eternity. 



TEANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 17 

Sun ! whose tender glances now 

From afar toward them I see, 
Why, with chilling scorn, dost thou 

Smile from out yon cloud on me ? 

* ' Woe I that I should trust in thee. 

When thy rays I first did feel ; 
In thine eyes still gazing be, 

Until thou my life dost steal ; 
Its poor remnant I'll witiidrMw 

From thy cruel sympathy. 
And, with feverish firmness, draw 

Self in self and fly from thee. 

" But my fury and my strife 
Melted into tears, oh see ! 
Take, oh take, my fleeting life 

Everlasting ! up to thee ! 
All that has my soul so grieved. 

Thou wilt suffer there no more ; 
All that from thee I received, 
Dying, now, I thank thee for.'' 
.3 



18 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

' ' Ev'ry morning breeze that blew, 

Quiv'ring me the summer long ; 
Ev'ry insect bright that flew, 

Hov'ring near with dance and song ; 
Eyes my beauty made more bright, 

Hearts my fragrance made more glad,- 
Such my mission in thy sight ; 

Thou, for all, my thanks hast had. 

" Of thy world an ornament, 

Though but small the share I gain ; 
I to deck this field was sent, 

As the stars the higher plain. 
But one breath is left to me, 

And no sigh shall it be found ; 
My last glance to heaven shall be. 

And the lovely world around. 

' ' Endless fire-heart of this globe ! 
Let me now expire on thee. 
Heaven, spread thine azure robe ; 
Mine, all faded, sinks with me. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 19 

Hail, O Spring I thy glowing sky ; 

Hail, O Morning Star ! thy breath ; 
Griefless, down to sleep I lie, 

Hopeless still to rise from death." 



THE SHEPHERD'S SABBATH SONG. 

(Uhland.) 

rPHIS is the Lord's own day ; 

I am alone on this broad plain ; 

The morning bell rings once again, 
Then all sound dies away. 

In prayer I bend the knee ; 

Oh sweetest thrill ! mysterious sound ! 

As though the unseen spirits round 
Now knelt and prayed with me. 

The heaven's wide display. 
So calm and so serene it lies. 
As though 'twould open to my eyes ; 

This is the Lord's own day ! 



20 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE MAIDEN'S LAMENT. 

(Schiller.) 



T 



!HE clouds are moving, 
The oak-woods roar, 
The maiden is sitting 
On ocean shore. 
The waves are breaking with might, with might, 
Her sighs go forth on the gloomy night, 
Her eyes are discolored with weeping. 

" The heart is now perished, 
The world is void. 
And henceforth to me 
My wish is denied. 
Tliou Holy One ! now thy child recall ; 
Of earthly pleasures I've compassed all 
In the joy of living and loving. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 21 

" The course of my tears 
Flows on in vain ; 
My plaint will awaken 
The dead not again. 
Butj^tell me, what heals and consoles the heart, 
When sweet love's pleasures and joys depart?" 
" I, the Heavenly ! will not withhold it." 

" The course of my tears 
Flows on in vain ; 
My plaint will awaken 
The dead not again. 
To sorrowing hearts the sweetest delight, 
When beauteous love's dearest joys take flight, 
Is its mournful pains and lamentings." 



22 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE HOESEMAN AND LAKE CONSTANCE. 

(G. Schwab.) 

A HORSEMAN rode through the valley so bright ; 
■^^ On the snow-fields glistened the sun's cold light. 

So hard through the snow he galloped away, 
For he hoped Lake Constance to reach that day. 

That, in the safe boat, both rider and horse 
Might, ere the night-fall, be ferried across. 

Along the bad road, o'er the fields with speed. 
O'er stone and thorn, swept the mettlesome steed. 

From the mountains down to the level land. 
He saw the snow lying as smooth as sand. 

Far in the rear faded village and town ; 
The way grew level and smooth as a down. 

Not a hill nor a house the region through ; 
E'en the rocks and the trees had vanished, too. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN 23 

Thus mile after mile did he swiftly fly, 
While he heard in the air the wild goose cry ; 

And the water-fowl fluttering wildly near ; 
But no other sound saluted his ear. 

No wanderer there could his eyes discern 

From whom the right path he could surely learn. 

O'er the soft snow as o'er velvet rode he ; 

" Oh, when the bright, murm'ring lake shall I see?" 

Now early the evening gloom came on, 
And a twinkling light in the distance shone ; 

And tree after tree from the mist sprang out^ 
i^nd hills encircled the region about. 

He felt on the soil the stone and the thorn ; 
And his horse's flanks by his spurs were torn. 

A barking dog leaped up in his path ; 

In the village beckoned the bright warm hearth. 

" Fair maid at yon window, a greeting to thee ; 
To the lake — to the lake — how far may it be? " 



24 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

The girl stood amazed the question to hear ; 
" The lake and the boat are both in your rear; 

"And but that the ice now covers it o'er, 

I'd say you'd just stepped from the boat to the shore." 

The stranger then drew a long breath in fear ; 
' ' O'er the plain behind me now rode I here." 

The maiden threw up her arms in the air ; 

' ' Good God ! 'twas the lake you rode over there ! 

*' Did not the waves 'neath you angry grow, 
And the thick ice crashing to pieces go ? 

' ' In the cold depths became you not food 
For the hungry pike and its silent brood? " 

She roused the village the story to hear, 
And the boys soon gathered around lier near ; 

The mothers and even the gray-haired ran. 

'' Think yourself blest," said they, *' fortunate man ! 

" But come, to our fire and our table repair, 
And take of our bread and our fish your share." 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 25 

But stiffly he sat on his horse, nor heard, 
Of all they had uttered, a single word. 

His heart ceased beating, erect stood his hair ; 
Still grinned the dread danger behind him there. 

Naught but that horrible gulf met his eye, 
In whose dark depths he seemed now to lie ; 

Thundered the crashing of ice in his ears, 

And the gurgling waves — the cold sweat appears — 

Groaning, he sank from his horse to the ground, 
And there a dry grave on the shore he found. 



GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE MINSTREL. 

(Goethe.) 

" T)EYOND the gate a sound I hear 
And on the bridge repeated ; 
Now by that song let willing ear 

Within this hall be greeted." 
Thus spake the king, the pages heard, 
Quick answer brought ; the king gave word, 
'* Bring in the gray-haired minstrel." 

" God bless you, noble lord," said he ; 

* ' Ye lovely dames, God bless you ; 
How rich a heaven of stars I see ! 

Oh how should I address you ? 
But here, midst pride and power sublime, 
Be closed mine eyes ; this is no time 
To gaze in idle wonder." 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 27 

His eyes he closed ; then rose a sound 

Of harp and voice entrancing : 
The knights with kindling eyes sat round, 

The fair ones downward glancing. 
The king, well pleased, a guerdon sought, 
And, at his word, the pages brought 
A chain so rare and golden. 

'* Give not to me the chain of gold, 
Though much I thank the giver. 

Give such your knights whose bearing bold 
The f oemen's lances shiver ; 

Or him your chancellor's signet wears, 

And to the golden trust he bears 

Add yet another burden. 

'' For sing I as the sweet birds sing 

That in the trees are dwelling ; 
My best reward, my sweet songs bring 

That from my heart are welling. 
But if I may a favor ask, 
Then hand me yonder golden flask 
Of wine so rich and generous." 



28 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

He seized the cup and drank it all : 
' ' Oh sweet, refreshing pleasure ! 

Now blest that favored house I call 
That counts but light this treasure. 

If well you fare, then think of me, 

And to your Maker grateful be 

As I am for your bounty." 



BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST. 

(Heine.) 

rpHE noon of night drew swiftly on ; 
-*- In silent rest lay Babylon. 

Above, in castle halls alone. 

Was tumult heard and bright lights shone. 

For there, while yet his subjects slept, 
A royal feast Belshazzar kept. 

His courtiers sat in shining rank, 

And sparkling wine from full cups drank. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 29 

Loud rose their shouts, the cups did ring ; 
The sound pleased well the stubborn king. 

His cheeks flushed red with feverish hue, 
With wine his reckless daring grew. 

Impelled by its blind impulse, he 
Blasphemed aloud the Deity. 

His blust'ring voice and impious word 
With loud applause his courtiers heard. 

With haughty glance he gave command — 
His slaves stood ready at his hand ; 

The golden vessels in were borne, 

By impious hands from God's house torn. 

The monarch seized a sacred cup, 
With sparkling wine he filled it up ; 

With foaming mouth and impious cry, 
He said — and drained the goblet dry — 

To thee, thou God, now be it known 
That I am King of Babylon ! 



30 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

The fearful words were scarcely said, 
When o'er his heart fell secret dread ; 

The boisterous laugh at once was stilled ; 
The hall, a death-like silence filled. 

And lo ! and lo ! on that white wall 
A spectral hand was seen by all : 

It wrote, it wrote on walls so white. 

In words of fire — then passed from sight. 

The king sat there with failing breath. 
And trembling knees, and pale as death. 

Benumbed with fear, the guests sat round, 
Nor moved nor uttered they a sound. 

The wise men came, but failed they all 
To read the flame-scroll on the wall. 

And ere the sun arose again 
Belshazzar by his slaves was slain. 



TBANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 31 



MIGNON. 

(From Goethe's "Wilhelm Mkister.") 

TT NOWST thou the land wherein the citrons bloom 
-"■^ And the golden orange lurks in leafy gloom, 
Where softest winds from azure heavens blow, 
The myrtle still — and lofty laurel grow ? 
Know'st thou it, say ? Thither ! away ! 
Would I with thee, oh my Beloved One, stray. 

Know'st thou the house ? — its roof on columns tall — 

The chambers shine and glitters bright the hall, 

And marble statues stand and gaze on me, 

And say, ' ' Poor child ! what have they done to thee ? " 

Know'st thou it, say ? Thither ! away ! 

Would I with thee, oh my Protector ! stray. 

Know'st thou the mountain where the cloud-path lay ? 
The mule, through the mist, securely feels his way : 
In caverns dwell the dragon's ancient brood, 
Down rolls the rock, and over it the flood — 
Know'st thou it, say ? Thither ! away ! 
Thither let us go — O Father, let's away. 



.32 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



MY FATHERLAND-. 

(KoRNER.) 

TI7HERE is the minstrel's Fatherland ? 

Where sparks of noble souls were flowing, 
Where wreaths for noble deeds were growing, 
Where strong hearts big with joy were glowing, 

For sacred things their ardor fanned ; 

There was my Fatherland. 

What calls the minstrel Fatherland ? 

What now, o'er slaughtered sons, is moaning, 

What under foreign yoke is groaning. 

The proud name " Land of Oaks" once owning. 

The free land and the German land ; 

This called I Fatherland. 

Why weeps the minstrel's Fatherland ? 

That 'neath the tyrant's fury being, 

Its people's rulers tremble, seeing 

Now broken every promise being. 
And that its cries no aid command ; 
So weeps my Fatherland. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 33 

AVhorn calls the minstrel's Fatherland ? 
Its cries to silent gods are soaring, 
With desperation's thunders roaring, 
Its freedom and release imploring, 

For retribution's vengeful hand ; 

Thus calls my Fatherland. 

What would the minstrel's Fatherland ? 
To crush the slaves its bounds embracing, 
The bloodhound from its limits chasing, 
And free its freeborn sons be raising. 

Or lay them, free, beneath the sand ; 

Thus would my Fatherland. 

What hopes the minstrel's Fatherland ? 
It trusts its righteous cause undying. 
On faithful sons its hopes relying, 
And for the great God's vengeance sighing, 

Nor yet mistakes the avenging hand ; 

Thus hopes my Fatherland. 



34 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



FAREWELL TO LIFE. 

(KiiRNER.) 

rpHE wound doth burn ; the pale lips quiv'ring be ; 

By this faint beating of my heart, too well 
That life's last moments hover near, I tell : 
God ! as thou wilt ; I gave myself to thee. 

What golden pictures did my fancy see ! 
The glorious vision turns to funeral knell ; 
But, courage ! what my heart has loved so well 
Must surely, yonder, ever dwell with me. 

And —that which I, as sacred, here have claimed — 
Impatient sought, with youthful zeal inflamed — 
Which, though 'twere freedom, though 'twere love, 
I named — 

I see before me stand a seraph bright ! 

And, as my senses slowly wing their flight, 

A breath shall waft me to the morn-tinged height. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 35 



THE LOST CHURCH. 

(Uhland.) 

TN yon dense wood, full oft a bell 

Is heard o'erhead in pealings hollow ; 
Yet whence it comes can no one tell, 

Nor scarce its dark traditions follow. 
For winds the chimes are floating o'er 

Of the Lost Church, in mystery shrouded 
The pathway, too, is known no more 

That once the pious pilgrims crowded. 

I lately in that wood did stray, 

Where not a foot-worn path extended ; 
And, from corruptions of the day, 

My inmost soul to God ascended : 
And in the silent, wild repose 

I heard that ringing, deeper, clearer ; 
The higher my aspirings rose. 

The sound descended, fuller, nearer. 



36 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

That sound my senses so entranced, 

My soul grew so retired and lowly, 
I ne'er could tell how it had chanced 

That I had reached a state so holy. 
It seemed to me a century 

Or more had passed while I was dreaming, 
When I a radiant place could see 

Above the mists with sunlight streaming. 

The heavens a deep, dark blue appeared ; 

The sun's fierce light and heat were flowing 
And, in the golden light upreared, 

A proud cathedral pile was glowing"; 
It seemed to me, the clouds so bright, 

As if on wings, that pile were raising 
Until its spires were lost to sight 

Within the blessed heavens blazing. 

And lo ! that sweet bell's music broke 
In quiv'ring streams within the tower ; 

No mortal hand its tones awoke ; 
The bell was rung by holy power. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 37 

And through my beating heart, too, swept 
That power iu full and perfect measure ; 

And thus beneath the dome I stepped, 
With fait' ring feet and tim'rous pleasure. 

Yet can I not in words make known 

What there I felt : on windows painted 
And darkly clear, around me shown. 

Were pious scenes of martyrs sainted. 
And wondrous clear before mine eyes, 

To life that picture broadened slowly ; 
I saw a world before me rise. 

Of God's brave men and women holy. 

I knelt before the altar there, 

Devotion, love, all through me stealing ; 
And all the heaven's glory fair 

Was o'er me, painted on the ceiling. 
And lo ! when next I upward gazed. 

The dome's vast arch had burst, and, wonder I 
The heaven's gate wide open blazed 

And ev'rv veil was rent asunder. 



38 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

What glories on mine eyes did fall, 

While thus in reverent awe still kneeling — 
What holier sounds I heard than all 

Of trumpet-blast or organ-pealing — 
No words possess the power to tell ; 

Who truly would such bliss be feeling 
Must listen to that deep-toned bell 

When in the wood its notes are pealing. 



THE BEGGAR AND HIS DOG. 

(L. A. Von Chamisso.) 

rpHREE dollars to pay for this poor old hound ! 
-*- May the tempest strike me down to the ground ! 
What mean you, gentlemen of the police ? 
I wonder what new imposition's this ! 

For an old, sick, helpless, man am I, 
Not a penny can earn, whate'er I try ; 
No money have I ; no, nor bread ; indeed, 
I live but a life of huno-er and need. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 39 

And when I became thus feeble and poor, 
Say, whose compassion and pity was sure? 
Who, since God's world I've traveled alone, 
Himself a faithful companion hath shown ? 

When grief wrung my heart, whose love then was 

true? 
When cold winds pierced me, who warmed me too ? 
When I, mad with hunger, complaints let fall, 
Though hungry too, snarled he never at all. 

'Tis all at an end between you and me. 
For parted, my poor old friend, we must be ; 
Like me, you are old, grown hollow your flanks, 
And now I must drown you — this is your thanks. 

This is your thanks — the reward of your worth ; 
'Tis with you as Avith many a child of earth ! 
The devil ! many a battle I've seen. 
But executioner never have been. 

Yes, here is the rope and here is the stone. 
And there is the water — it must be done : 
Come here, my poor dog — but don't look at me — 
Yet one step nearer — soon over 'twill be — 



40 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

As its neck was caught in the fatal band, 
Wagging its tail, the dog licked his hand ; 
Then quickly backward he drew the sling, 
And round his own neck he twisted the string ; 

And then, as a terrible oath he swore, 
Gathering his utmost strength, from the shore 
Sprang in the stream ; to receive him it leapt, 
And, circling, above him in silence swept. 

Though at once to his aid did the good dog leap, 
And, howling, the boatmen aroused from sleep ; 
Though quickly the way to the place he led, 
Yet when they found him, his master was dead. 

In the silence of night a grave they made 

And in it the corpse of the beggar was laid ; 

And the dog that e'en death could not drive from his 

side. 
Broken-hearted, lay down on the grave and died. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 



THE BLIND KING. 

(Uhland.) 

TT7HY waits that Northern soldier-baud 

On yonder sea-board higli ? 
Why doth the old blind monarch stand? 

His gray hairs wildly fly ? 
Hear him in bitter anguish call, 

As o'er his staff he bends ; 
Across the bay the island's wall 

Its answering echo sends. 

^ Give, robber ! from thy strong retreat, 
My daughter back to me ; 
Her sounding harp and song so sweet 

My age's joy should be. 
From dancing on the green sea-strands 

Thou stealedst her away ; 
To thine eternal shame it stands ! 
It bows this head so gray." 
6 



42 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Now on his rocky ledges there, 

The wild marauder springs ; 
He waves his giant sword in air, 

Then on his shield it rings : 
" Full many a guard hast thou at call. 

Why suffered they the raid ? 
So many serving-men ! yet all 

To fight for her afraid?" 

From all that host there comes no sound, 
From out the ranks move none : 

The blind king turns himself around ; 

''And am I all alone?" 

His father's hand, his younger son 
Then grasps with pressure warm ; 
*' Now let the fight by me be won. 
Full strong I feel my arm." 

" A giant's strength, my son, he owns, 
Before him none may stand ; 
And yet there's marrow in thy bones, 
I feel it in thy hand. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 43 

This old true blade I'd have thee bear, 

'Twas once a skald's famed pride ; 
But, if thou fail, my old gray hair 

Shall rest beneath the tide." 



Now hark ! with foaming, rushing prow 

A skiff speeds o'er the sound ; 
The blind king stands and listens now 

And all is still around ; 
Till rises on that far-off shore 

The clang of sword and shield, 
And battle-cry and deafening roar 

That hollow echoes yield. 

He cries, with mingled joy and fear, 
" \Yhat mark you there? say on ! 
'Tis ray good sword whose sound I hear, 

I know its sharp, clear tone : 
Now surely doth the robber fall, 

His bloody meed hath won : 
Now hail ! thou hero over all. 

Thou strong and brave king's son." 



44 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Now once again 'tis still around, 
Still stands and listens he ; 
" A rowing and a rushing sound 

I hear upon the sea." 
"■ 'Tis they, 'tis they are coming near, 
Thy son with sword and shield ; 
And, with him, in her golden hair, 
Thy daughter dear, Gunild." 

From yon high rock above the sea 

The old man ''welcome " gave ; 
" Now shall my old age blissful be 

And honorable my grave. 
Thou by my side shalt lay, my son. 

My sword so good and strong. 
And thou, Gunild, the rescued one ! 

Shalt sing my funeral song." 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 45 



THE LANDLADY'S DAUGHTER. 

(Uhland.) 

npHREE stuJeuts went over the Rhine one clay, 
And soon to the landlady's house came they. 

'' Landlady, have you good beer and wine? 
And where is that lovely daughter of thine? " 

' ' My beer and wine are fresh and clear ; 
My daughter lies on her funeral bier." 

And then to the chamber they took their way, 
Where, in her sable coffin, she lay. 

The first from her face the covering took 
And on her gazed with sorrowful look. 

" If living to-day, fair maid, Vv^ert thou, 
Then would I love thee sincerely from now." 

The second put back the shroud again, 
Then turned him aside and wept in pain ; 



46 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

' ' Alas ! that thou shouldst lie on thy bier, 
For I have loved thee full many a year. " 

The third then quickly turned down the veil 
And printed a kiss on her lips so pale : 

" I loved thee always, and yet love I thee, 
And will love thee still to eternity." 



THE KING'S DAUGHTEK. 

(Uhland.) 

ri1HE King of the Spaniards' daughter 

For learning a trade would be ; 
Willing she was to learn sewing — 
Both washing and sewing — was she. ' 

When at the very first garment 

A-washing away was she. 
The ring from her lily-white finger 

Fell off and was lost in the sea. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 47 

Now she was a simple maiden, 

And so to weeping fell she ; 
When, lo ! that very way passing, 

A knight just happened to be. 

Now if I the ring recover. 

What will the beauty give me ? " 

A kiss on my lips so pretty 
I could not refuse," said she. 

The knight threw off his mantle 

And plunged into the sea ; 
But when he dived the first time 

He nothing found, did he ! 

And when he dived the second time 

He saw it shine in the sea : 
And when he dived the third time 

The knight was drowned, was he ! 

Oh she was a simple maiden, 

And she cried again, d'ye see ! 
Then off went she to her father — 

" Want no more trade! " said she. 



GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE SAILOR'S WIFE. 

(I. R. Wys, Jr.) 



"W 



HAT splashes so late on the sea so wide ? 
My daughter, dear, pray, now see." 
Tis the neighbor's duck that's beating the tide ; 
Sleep, mother dear, peacefully." 



" What roars in the water with boisterous force? 

Dear daughter, my fears grow strong." 
' ' A peasant is swimming his favorite horse ; 

Sleep, mother dear, sweet and long." 

' ' Now dreadfully roaring like storm-rage, hark ! 

Dear daughter, that cry of despair ! " 
' ' Nay, singing, the fisherman rows his bark ; 

Sleep, mother dear, free from care." 

** Oh, misery ! oh, pity ! out, out I must go. 
Now broken my poor heart lies." 
Thus crying, the mother goes forth in her woe, 
In anguish and pain she flies. 



TMANSLATIONS FROM TEE GERMAN. 49 

There floats a dead body toward the land 
On the reed-bound edge of the sea ; 

Now naked it lies upon the black sand ; 
''Oh, merciful God ! 'tis he!" 

" Now, daughter, indeed, will I sleep, I'll sleep 
The weary, long night away ; 
And sweet and long the glad rest keep 
That nevermore knows the day." 



REMEMBRANCE. 

(Frederick Matthison.) 

T THINK of thee 

When from yon tree 
Nightingales render 
Their love-notes tender : 
When think'st thou of me ? 



50 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

I think of thee 
When bright hours be 
To twilight faded, 
By fountain shaded : 
Where think'st thou of me ? 

I think of thee 

(Sweet agony) 

With tender yearning 

And tears so burning : 

How think'st thou of me ? 

Oh think of me 
Till joined are we 
Brighter stars under : 
Though far asunder 
I think but of thee. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN 51 



THE ROBBER. 

(R. E. Pkutz.) 

r\UT upon the loDely cross-roads, 

^ In the Crucifix's shadow, 

Stood a robber slyly lurking : 

In his hand the shining sabre 

And the bullet-loaded rifle. 

He was watching for a merchant 

Who, Tvith money in great plenty, 

Precious wines, and costly dresses. 

From the market home was coming. 

Down had sunk the sun already. 

And the moon through clouds was rising, 

And the robber stood and waited 

In the Crucifix's shadow. 

Listen ! sounds like angel voices, 
Gentle sighs and loud petitions 
Clear as evening bells, are coming 
Through the silent air toward liira : 
Sweetly, with unwonted accents, 



52 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Steals upon his ear a prayer ; 
Eagerly he stands and listens : 

" Oh, Protector of the Looely ! 
Oh, thou Guardian of the Lost Ones ! 
Turn, oh turn thy heavenly countenance, 
Bright as sunlight, sweetly smiling, 
Down on us thy humble children. 
Spread, oh spread thy arms so loving, 
Arms, that once the cross extended. 
Like two wings around our father ; 
That no storm his path endanger. 
That his good horse may not stumble, 
That no robber, slyly lurking, 
In the forest depths may seize him. 
Oh, Protector of the Lonely ! 
Oh, thou Guardian of the Lost Ones ! 
Homeward guide our loving father. " 

And the robber heard all these things 
In the Crucifix's shadow. 

Crossing then himself, the youngest 
Piously his soft hands folded, 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN 53 

While he prayed with child-like lispings : — 
■ * Christ ! I know thou art almighty, 
Sitting on the throne of Heaven 
Midst the stars' bright golden glitter, 
Midst the lovely, happy angels ; 
So the nurse has often told me : 
Oh be gracious, Christ, I pray thee. 
Give the bold and daring robber, 
Give him bread and bread in plenty. 
That he need no more to plunder. 
Nor to murder our dear father. 
Knew I where to find a robber, 
I my little chain would give him, 
And my cross, too, and my girdle ; 
Saying to him, dear, good robber. 
Take this chain and cross and girdle, 
That thou need no more to plunder 
Nor to murder our dear father." 

And the robber heard all these things 

In the Crucifix's shadow. 

Now, afar, he hears him coming. 
Horses snorting, wheels swift rolling : 



54 GLEANINGS FRO 31 POETIC FIELDS. 

Slowly does he seize the sabre, 

Slowly does he take the rifle, 

And then stands there, deeply thinking, 

In the Crucifix's shadow. 
Still are kneeling down the children : 
' ' Oh, Protector of the Lonely ! 

Oh, thou Guardian of the Lost Ones ! 
Homeward guide our loving father." 

And the father, hither driving, 
Safe and well and unattended, 
Clasps the children to his bosom ; 
Blest their prattle ! sweet their kisses ! 
But they never saw the robber : 
Only found the shining sabre 
And the bullet-loaded rifle 

In the Crucifix's shadow. 

Lying there where he had dropped them. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 55 



THE SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN BOY. 

(Uhland.) 

rilHE mountain shepherd boy am I ; 
See, all the castles 'neath me lie ; 
The bright sun's earliest beams I see, 
And longest tarry they with me ; 

I am the boy of the mountain. 

The mountain stream has here its head, 
I drink it fresh from its stony bed, 
As it leaves the rock in its headlong course, 
I bar it with my arm across ; 

I am the boy of the mountain. 

The mountain is my own domain, 
The tempests round me rage in vain ; 
Though winds may roar from south to north, 
Above them all my song peals forth ; 
I am the boy of the mountain. 



56 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

When thunder clouds below me lie 
I stand beneath the clear blue sky ; 
I know them all and breathe the prayer — 
My father's home in mercy spare — 
I am the boy of the mountain. 

But when the alarm bell's notes resound 
And signals light the mountains round, 
Then down I go and join the throng, 
And swing my sword and sing my song ; 
I am the boy of the mountain. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 57 



CASTLE BONCOURT. 

(L. A. Von Chamisso.) 

T DREAM myself back in childhood, 

And I shake my old gray head ; 
For a memory once more haunts me 
I had long ago thought dead. 

Rising from out yon shadow 

Is a shining castle shown ; 
I know the tower and the ramparts, 

The gate, and the bridge of stone. 

I see upon the escutcheon 

The familiar lion traced ; 
I salute my old acquaintance, 

And into the court-yard haste. 

There lies the sphinx at the fountain ; 

There stands the fig-tree green ; 
And there, too, behind those windows, 

I dreamed my earliest dream. 

<S 



58 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

I walk through the castle chapel, 
And seek the ancestral tomb ; 

'Tis there, where the ancient weapons 
On the pillar hang in gloom. 

But, though from the rich stained windows 

The light on it clearly lies, 
I cannot read the inscription, 

Because of my tear-dimmed eyes. 

In memory, home of my fathers. 
Thus faithful and firm art thou ; 

Although from the earth thou hast vanished. 
And over thee passes the plough. 

Be f ruitftil, dear land ! thus fondly 
I bless thee, sad though I be ; 

And will bless him doubly who henceforth 
Shall drive the plough over thee. 

But now I will quickly arouse me. 
And, with my harp in my hand, 

Go roaming the wide world over. 
And singing from land to land. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 59 



THE GERMAN KNIGHT'S AVE. 

(Emanuel Geibel.) 

^^ QIR Otto vom Biihl, the need is dread, 
^ Your lealty now may show ; 
The field is red, the brothers are dead, 

Behind us presses the foe. 
I grieve for many a shattered shield 

And many a good spear broken, 
But more for the cup in my cloak concealed, 

The sacrament's holy token. 
On battlefields its rim we kissed 

Our peace with God to make ; 
In scorn, at their dissolute victory -feast 

Shall pagans that chalice take ? 
Sir Otto, if young and strong you feel, 

Yet once more turn your horse, 
And seek with your sharp, swinging steel 

To check the rabble's course. 



60 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

If only so long you hold it there 

As an Ave you repeat, 
The cup, for which you so much dare 

Is saved by my charger fleet." 
Sir Otto of danger took slight heed, 

Said '' Aye," and nothing more ; 
The master's steed shot thence with speed, 

The moonlight streaming o'er ; 
And as the white cloak's broidered cross 

To sight was nearly lost. 
Came rushing on, with foam-flecked horse. 

The Lithuanian host. 
And, far away, as the mantle rose 

And sank like a swan in flight. 
They fell with fast and furious blows 

Upon the brave young knight. 
Incessant flashed their scimitars' sheen 

And hollow their clubs resounded. 
And raging battle-cries between 

Like hungry wolf-howls sounded. 
Sir Otto vom Biihl cried " Ave Marie ! " 

Nor swung his sword in vain ; 
The leader fell from saddle to knee, 

His temple cleft in twain. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 61 

And still to his text the hero kept, 

His aim was sure and dread ; 
The standard-bearer downward swept, 

The banner over him spread. 
Thus, word by word and stroke by stroke, 

A brave prayer that to pray I 
At every word the hero spoke, 

Mowed down, a heathen lay. 
Wide gaps were rent in his shirt of mail. 

Its rings were tinged with red ; 
Yet never once did his spirit fail. 

Each stroke laid one more dead. 
His horse sank down, his shield was sprung. 

On foot he fought anew ; 
His heavy sword with both hands swung 

And prayed the Greeting through. 
And as to an end the Ave came 

He struck a last, fierce blow, 
Then, in a towering, corpse-piled frame, 

Bleeding and pale, sank low. 
His tongue grew dumb, his arm grew weak. 

His heart stood still in death ; 
His latest pang — he could not speak 

And give the Amen breath. 



62 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

The foe, in haste, their steeds swung round 

No more such work to see ; 
The holy relic asylum found 

Through the brave knight's '' Ave Marie ! " 
May God award him blissful rest, 

Thus battle-tempest driven ; 
He who on earth that prayer addressed 

May say the Amen in Heaven. 



THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER. 

(Uhland.) 

A GOLDSMITH stood amid his store 
'^ Of pearls and precious stone ; 
He looked his richest jewels o'er, 
And held his darling daughter for 
The rarest he did own. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN 68 

There came a knight in raiment fine, 
" Hail, maiden sweet !" he cried ; 
•' Good morrow, worthy goldsmith mine, 

A bracelet rare for me design 
Wherewith to deck my bride." 

Now, when the precious gift was done 

And gleamed its colors warm, 
Sad Helen sought her room alone, 
And took the band she fain would own 

And clasped it on her arm. 

'' Ah ! who might wear this costly thing, 
Thrice blessed bride were she ! 
Oh, if to me he would but bring 
Of roses sweet a simple ring, 
How happy I should be !" 

Soon came the knight the gift to see, 

He gazed on it with pride : 
^' Now, worthy goldsmith, make," said he, 
'' A handsome diamond ring for me 

Wherewith to deck mv bride." 



64 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Now when the brilliant ring was done 

And gleams of light let fall, 
Sad Helen sought her room alone, 
And placed the glittering jewelled zone 
Upon her finger small. 

' ' Ah ! who might wear this costly ring, 
Thrice blessed bride were she ! 
Oh, if to me he would but bring 
One lock of hair — a simple thing — 
How happy I should be !" 

Soon came the knight the ring to see, 
And, greatly pleased, he cried — 
' ' Thou hast, oh worthy smith, for me 

Well made the costly jewelry 
Wherewith to deck my bride." 

" But yet to prove it clearly so, 
Come here, sweet maid, to me, 
And let me seek by thee to know 
How well my darling's gifts will show, 
She is as fair as thee." 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 65 

'Twas on a Sunday morning fair, 

And Helen, lovely maid, 
Had dressed herself with studious care. 
That to the church she might repair, 

In all her best arrayed. 

While blushes o'er her sweet face flew, 

Before the knight she stands ; 
The bracelet on her wrist he threw, 
The ring upon her finger drew. 

Then seized her trembling hands : 

" Oh, Helen sweet ! Oh, Helen dear, 

The jest its course has spent ; 
My bride, all beautiful, is here. 
For thee the golden bracelet, dear, 

For thee the ring were meant. 

*^ Mid gold and pearls and precious stones 
Thou didst to woman grow ; 
Be it to thee a token fair, 
To higher honors yet prepare 
With me, my love, to go." 
9 



GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS, 

THE LOKELEI. 

T KNOW not why, but a measure 
-^ Of sadness o'er me I find ; 
And a tale from the fairy treasure 
That will not out of my mind. 

The air is cool and 'tis darkling, 
And peacefully flows the Rhine ; 

And the mountain tops are sparkling 
In the sun's departing shine. 

A wondrous form sits beaming 

With beauty over there ; 
Her golden raiment gleaming ; 

She combs her golden hair. 

A golden comb she uses, 

And sings, the while, a song ; 

The melody she infuses 

Is witchery strange and strong. 



TRAJ^SLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 67 

His skiff, a boatman is speeding, 

By the wild enchantment led ; 
He sees not where it is leading, 

Sees but the vision ahead. 

To the doom the waves are bringing. 
The boat and the boatman run : 

And this, with her siren-singing, 
The Lorelei hath done. 



ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD. 

(Uhland.) 

TT came and went with footsteps low, 
-*- A transient guest in this laud of pain ; 
Wheref rom ? whereto ? we only know 
From God's hands into His hands again. 



68 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE DEAD SOLDIER. 

(Anon.) 

PiN a strange and distant meadow, 
^ A soldier is lying dead ; 
Unknown, unmourned, and forgotten, 
Though bravely he fought and bled. 

Though many a cross-decked general 
Rides past him with martial air ; 

Who thinks of a decoration 
For the dead man lying there ? 

Ah ! sad are the tears and searchings 

For many a lost one dear ; 
Alas ! for that poor dead soldier 

Is neither question nor tear. 

And yet, far off in the homestead, 
There sits in the evening-red 

A father filled with forebodings, 
Who sighs, " He surely is dead." 



TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN. 69 

There sits a sorrowing mother, 
God help her, the sad eyes fill ; 
'* He comes, but only in spirit, 

The clock at eleven stands still." 

And a maiden pale is gazing 
Into the gloaming apart ; 
'* Though dead and gone from among us, 
He is not dead to my heart." 

And thus there were three there shedding — 
As only such bruised hearts may — 

Their tears in the eyes of heaven 
For the dead man far away. 

But heaven changed to a cloudlet 
Those tears with its loving hand, 

And carried it quickly over 
To that far-off foreign land, 

And poured from the cloud the tear-drops 

In dew on that soldier's head ; 
And he lay unwept no longer 

On that distant meadow, dead ! 



MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 



MEMORY'S BLOSSOM. 

(MiLLEROYE.) 

TN Switzerland, 'tis said, one day 
^ Went wandering forth two maidens fair ; 
Louise and Lisbeth named were they, 
And Louise held a blossom rare. 
^' Good hermit, sitting by the way," 
Said Louise, " in your prayers, I pray 
Forget me not !" 

Across their road burst storm and wind : 

I know not what dark presage fell 
Upon the fair young traveler's mind ; 
But so it chanced, as gossips tell, 
** Dear friend," said Louise, with a sigh, 
" If I should be the first to die, 

Forget me not !" 
10 



74 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

An avalanche that fell that day 

Athwart their path caught Louise, too, 

And as it swept her past, they say. 

At her friend's feet the flower she threw, 

And cried, * ' Farewell, my Lisbeth, dear ; 

Oh, keep my flower forever near. 
Forget me not !" 

Distraught with fear, with futile strife 
To join her friend fair Lisbeth tried ; 

But firm they held her back to life ; 
" Oh live, ah live, for her who died." 

Then faithfully that flower she wore. 

And ever since, this name it bore, 
" Forget-7tie-noV* 



MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 75 



THE DYING CHRISTIAN. 

(Lamartine.) 

T17HAT do I hear ? the sacred bronze resounds. 
' What weeping throng is this my couch sur- 
rounds ? 
For whom this mournful chant ? this half-lit gloom ? 
O Death ! is this thy voice that meets mine ear 
For the last time ? Ah ! am I then so near 
The threshold of the tomb? 

Oh, thou ! a precious spark of heavenly flame, 
Immortal dweller in a mortal frame. 

Thy fears subdue ; death comes to set thee free ! 
Take thou thy wings, my soul ; cast off thy chains ; 
Lay down thy load of human griefs and pains : 
And is this then to die ? 



76 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Yea, time has ceased to register my hours. 
Ye shining messengers from heaven's towers, 

In what bright palace yonder shall we meet ? 
I seem to float away on waves of light ; 
And space is broadening on my raptured sight ; 
Earth sinks beneath my feet. 

What sounds are these? just as my soul would rise, 
My ears are filled with sobs and mournful sighs. 

Why, fellow-exiles, do ye mourn my fate, 
When I already quaff oblivion's cup, 
And my exalted spirit soaring up 

Gains the celestial gate ? 



MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 77 



RESIGNATION. 

(VlTALIS.) 

QHOULD I not gladly greet the heavy task 
^ Sent as an angel from my God to me ? 
Why should I, faltering, my Father ask 

Wherefore He chose it His messenger to be ? 

As a bird nestles 'neath its mother's wings, 
So on His breast I lean secure from harm ; 

Though death assail me with its thousand stings, 
I conquer yet, my faith my conquering arm. 

Yon gentle dove her prayer-encumbered flight 
Wings to my Father's azure-tinted sphere ; 

And when He sees her hovering in His light, 
Whispers she softly in His listening ear. 

So to Thee, Lord, my offering I make : 
Thou who so deeply in my heart doth see ! 

From Thee my cross, in love, I humbly take, 
E'en as in love Thou offerest it to me. 



78 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



NEARER HOME. 

(From the Swedish.) 

T) OUND the mountains' lofty summits 
^^ Sunset's lingering streamers play, 
Evening's cooling breeze refreshes 

Weary wanderers on their way. 
Daily toil and conflicts ended, 

Evening's grateful shadows come ; 
Sweet the thought that I am nearer 

To my true, eternal home. 

** One day nearer," sings the sailor. 

Swiftly speeding o'er the sea ; 
** Nearer home and all its dear ones 

Heaven's love hath given me." 
So the child of God sings gaily 

As he sails Time's waters o'er, 
' ' I to-day am one day nearer 

To my home on Heaven's shore." 



MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 79 

Nearer God and all his angels 

Who, through faith, behold his face : 
Oh how blest will be the meeting 

When with them I take my place ! 
Precious thought ! 'twill bear me onward 

Till life's need and griefs are done, 
And I prove what there awaits me 

When my fleeting course is run. 

One day nearer ! Oh how cheering 

Is the thought, that while I roam 
Through this life with all its changing 

Lights and shadows, waits my home ! 
Through the waves of good and evil. 

Through the depths and o'er the heights, 
Jesus' steadfast promise follows, 

And my trusting soul delights. 

Nearer still each day advancing 

Toward my home beyond the clouds. 
Toward the land of love and beauty 

Heaven's azure curtain shrouds. 
See ! through yonder cloudy masses 

Streams of light their passage win, 
Beaming from the Holy City 

And the Lamb of God therein. 



80 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



ARNE'S SONG. 

(BJ5RNSTJERNE BJOENSON.) 

WHAT shall I see if ever I go 
' ^ Over the mountain wall ? 
Here I see naught but fields of snow 
Past where the firs and the pine trees grow ; 

Thence is my heart ever turning, 

Deep for the journey burning. 

Th' eagle is speeding his tireless way 

Over the mountain wall ; 
Cutting the young and vigorous day 
With a mighty heart as he seeks his prey ; 

Sweeps now with downward motion — 

Now seeks the distant ocean. 

Leaf -laden apple tree, thou wouldst not go 

Over the mountain wall ! 
Willing each summer-time here to grow ; 
Waiting till spring melts the winter's snow ; 



MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS 81 

Birds through thy bows are swinging ; 
Thou know'st not what they're singing ! 

He who for twenty years longed to go 

Over the mountain wall ; 
Never the wish fulfilled to know, 
Smaller and smaller each year must grow ; 
He knows what the birds are singing 
While through thy branches swinging. 

Chattering birds, say wherefore ye flew 
Over the mountain wall ; 

Surely 'twere better beyond for you ; 

Higher the trees and broader the view ; 
Why with sad longings grieve me 
While yet no wings ye leave me ? 

Ah ! shall I never, never see 
Over the mountain wall ; 

Must all my thoughts contracted be, 

Ice-mantled walls encompass me, 
Prison — while life is extended, 
Tomb —when that life shall be ended ? 
11 



82 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Oh ! I must fly from here, fly, fly, fly ! 

Over the mountain wall ; 
What if my heart's best aims be high, 
Crushed 'neath this load they must sink and die. 
Still hopes of deliv'rance cherish. 
Not beat on these walls and perish ! 

Some time, I know, I shall journey afar 

Over the mountain wall ; 
Lord ! is thy door already ajar ? 
Dear is the home where thy loved ones are : 

Bar it from me yet longer ; 

Make my desire for thee stronger ! 



TEANSLATIONS FROM HORACE. 



TO THE FOUNTAIN BANDUSIA. 

(Book m. 13.) 

"D ANDUSIA ! clearer than crystal 

And worthy of wine and of flowers ! 
I will choose a kid from the younglings 
Of my wanton flocks in thy honor ; 

Whose crest shows its first horns just budding, 
To battles and love in vain destined : 
For his red blood shed in thy service 
Shall tinge thy cool streams on the morrow. 

The fierce burning heat of the dog-star 
Cannot touch the cool shade thou affordest 
To the oxen weary with ploughing 
And herds that are quietly grazing. 

And famed shalt thou be among fountains, 
When I sing of the oak that is planted 
• Mid the hollow rocks whence thy waters 
Flow forth with continuous babbling. 



86 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



TO AUGUSTUS. 

(Book I. 12.) 

"IITHAT man or hero, Clio, wilt thou praise 
' ^ With the shrill pipe or with thy sounding lyre ? 
Or say what god ? whose name wilt thou shall bring 
Sport-loving Echo 

From Helicon's umbrageous shadows deep, 
Or Pindus' heights, or Hemos' frigid bounds ? 
From whence the woods, in haste, impetuous rushed 
Following Orpheus, 

Who by maternal art the swift winds held, 
And stopped the rushing rivers' rapid fall, 
When by his warbling lutes so sweetly played 
Oaks list'ning led he. 

Whose wonted praises should I sooner sound 
Than Jove's, who rules the sea, the land, the world ; 
Who governs men and gods while ceaseless roll 
Varying seasons ? 



TRANSLA TIONS FROM HORACE. 87 

Than him is nothing greater born nor made ; 
None like unto, nor second place doth hold ; 
But nearest among all, alone, hath worn 
Pallas her honors. 

Not Bacchus bold will I in silence pass ; 
Diana chaste, of savage beasts the foe ; 
Nor fear-impelling Phoebus, prompt to dart 
Death-dealing arrows. 

Nor Hercules, nor Leda's noble boys ; 
One, fame with hsts, and one with horses wins. 
If but above the sailor's head there shines 
Gemini's brightness. 

The driving surges cease the rocks to beat. 
The raging winds are hushed, the clouds disperse ; 
The threatening wave (the gods so will) 
Sinks on the ocean. 

I doubt if Romulus should next be named ; 
Or Numa's peaceful reign, or Tarquin proud ; 
Or should that noble death be first proclaimed, 
Thine, princely Cato? 



88 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Regulus ; the Scauri ; Paulus, too, who fell, 
Lavish of his great soul, when Carthage won ; 
These, gratefully, with worthy song I name ; 
Also Fabricius, 

He and Curius with the unkempt locks ; 
Camillus, who saved Rome : these all were reared 
In poverty, and trained to war amid 
Humble surroundings. 

Even as a tree, Marcellus' fame shall grow 
In unknown years : and, as fair Luna beams 
Among the lesser lights, the Julian Star 
Shines among all men. 

Father and Guardian of the human race, 
From Saturn sprung ! great Caesar to thy care 
The Fates entrust. Thy reign shall be supreme ; 
Csesar is second. 

Whether he drive the threatening Parthian host 
With a just triumph from Italia's shores ; 
Or subjugate beneath the eastern skies 
Ceres or Indian, 



TRANSLATIONS FR03I HORACE. 89 

He, to thee subject, justly rules the world. 
Thou with thy chariot shalt Olympus shake. 
When, 'gainst our groves profaned, in direful wrath, 
Thunderbolts hurling. 



TO HIS SERVANT. 

(Book I. 38.) 

T HATE the Persian decorations, boy ! 
-*- And chaplets bound.on linden -bands displease : 
No longer seek to find the places where 
Bloom the late roses. 

The simple myrtle only shalt thou bring, 
Becoming to thee, serving, and to me ; 
While I, beneath the thick-leaved shade reclined, 
Sip the sweet wine cup. 



12 



90 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



TO THE SHIP BEAKING VIRGIL. 

(Book I, 3.) 

QO may the goddess of the Cyprian Isle, 

^ The shining Twins — the sailor's constant friends— 

And great Eolus, father of the winds — 

Except lapyx, holding all in check — 

Guide thee, O Ship ! unto whose faithful care 

Is Virgil given (him thou dost owe to us). 

That thou mayst land him safe on Attic shores 

And thus preserve him who is half my soul. 

Sure oak and triple brass his breast had girt, 

Who first entrusted to the raging sea 

His fragile bark ; whose heart quailed not before 

The Northern blasts that fierce contention hold 

With boisterous winds that blow from Af ric's shores 

Nor mourning Hyades ; nor South- wind's rage ; 

No greater power is there than his to lash 

The Adriatic's billows into foam, 

Or, if he will, to lull its waves to rest. 

What coming guise of death could him appall 



TBA NSLA TIONS FB OM HOB A CE. 91 

Who saw, unmoved, the monsters of the deep, 

The swelling main, or those ill-fated rocks 

That skirt Acroceraunia's rugged coast ? 

In vain a prudent god the land divides 

By Ocean's broad and all-estranging depths 

If impious ships may cross forbidden gulfs. 

The human race, audacious in desire, 

Will, heedless, rush in interdicted ways. 

The bold Prometheus to the world brought down 

The fire of heaven by a fatal fraud : 

Consumption followed, and a direful train 

Of new diseases brooded o'er the earth : 

Then lingering Death, that erstwhile slowly moved, 

His footsteps quickened ; Dsedalus sought to pierce 

The vacant air with wings not given to man : 

Herculean labor broke through Acheron. 

No task too arduous is for mortal aim ; 

Our folly leads us to essay ev'n heaven. 

Nor, through our constant wickedness, may Jove's 

Avenging thunderbolts be laid aside. 



92 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



TO L. SEXTIUS. 

(Rook I. 4.) 



rpHE varying moods of Spring and western winds 
stern Winter chase away ; 
The sailors roll their dry-keeled ships to sea ; 
The ploughman leaves his cheerful hearth, and happy 
herds forsake their stalls, 
And hoar-frosts cease to robe the fields in white. 



Now Cytherean Venus leads her chorus 'neath the 
impending moon ; 
The comely Graces with the Nymphs unite 
To beat the earth with alternate feet ; while Vulcan, 
reddened by the flames, 
The Cyclops' lab'ring forges fiercely heats. 



TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE. 93 

'Tis fitting now to bind the oil-anointed head with 
myrtle green, 
Or flowers the out-thawed earth in plenty bears : 
To Faunus, also, thou shouldst sacrifice, in shady 
groves, a lamb. 
Or, if it better please him, choose a kid. 

Pale Death, impartial, knocks with equal feet at poor 
men's cabin doors 
And kingly halls ; O Sextius, richly blest ! 
The sum of Life's contracted span forbids us hold 
far-reaching hopes : 
Soon night will thee oppress, the fabled shades. 

And Pluto's narrow realm, wherein, when once thou 
take thy destined place. 
Thou shalt not win by dice to rule the wine ; 
Nor tender Lycidas admire, whose beauty now all 
youth inspires. 
And maidens too, ere long, will madly love. 



94 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



TO MELPOMENE. 

(Book III. 30.) 

T HAVE built a monument unto my name 

-*- More durable than brass, and loftier still 

Than ev'n the Pyramids' majestic height : 

Nor wasting rain nor winds can it destroy ; 

Nor years unnumbered, nor the seasons' flight. 

I shall not wholly die ; a part of me 

Shall yet escape the shadowy realm of death. 

So shall posterity renew my praise 

While to the Capitol, in Vesta's name, 

The pontiff and the silent virgins go. 

AVhere rapid Aufid roars, and Daunus rules 

A hardy race, though poor in streams their land, 

There, humbly born, I yet to greatness grew. 

I shall be known and praised as he who first 

Tuned to the Latin lyre ^olian verse. 

O Muse ! assume the pride thy merits claim, 

And with the Delphic laurel bind my brow. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 



A DREAM. 

/^NCE on a lovely summer eve, 
^ Deep in a wood I strayed ; 
Far had I roamed o'er towering hills, 

Through field and forest glade : 
And as the sun was waning fast, 

All nature sank to rest ; 
The setting sun the fleecy clouds 

In gold and crimson dressed. 

No habitation near me rose ; 

I feared to lose my way. 
So sought a green and mossy bank, 

And down to rest I lay : 
And lo ! it seemed while lying there 

The night had passed away. 
And once more shone the glorious sun 

And sweetly smiled the day. 
13 



93 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

But oil ! how changed was all around ; 

What wonders rose to view ! 
For with the sombre shades of night 

The wood had vanished too ; 
And in its place a wondrous scene 

Of beauty met the eye, 
In all the rich diversity 

Of hill and dale and sky. 

No clouds obscured the bright blue vault 

The hills with sunlight glowed : 
Across the meadows green and bright 

Pellucid streamlets flowed : 
While through the valley's fertile plains 

A mighty river rolled 
Its winding course 'tween emerald banks 

And fields of waving gold. 

And stately trees high o'er my head 
Their branches widely flung ; 

While luscious fruit on every side 
In tempting clusters hung : 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 99 

And fragrant flowers of ev'ry hue 

Bloomed in profusion there, 
And poured their grateful perfumes forth, 

Sweet incense to the air. 



While countless birds around me flew 

And carolled forth their lays. 
Their little throats were swelling with 

A thousand notes of praise : 
From tree to tree with glist'ning plumes 

They gayly coursed along, 
And made the whole expanse of air 

Melodious with their song. 

Then o'er the landscape's wide extent 

I saw, with spellbound eyes, 
From out the midst of shady groves 

And blooming gardens, rise. 
With stately grandeur, mansions bright 

And temples vast and high, 
Whose shining domes and flashing spires 

Rose upward to the sky. 



100 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

The walls, inlaid with precious stones, 

Shone with refulgent light ; 
The domes and spires were burnished gold 

And silver pure and bright ; 
Of massive pearl the gates were formed, 

And ever open stood. 
To welcome to their portals wide 

The noble and the good. 



And through the gates in ceaseless streams 

Passed happy, radiant bands ; 
With robes of white, and golden crowns, 

And harps within their hands ; 
And as along the silv'ry meads 

And flower-strewn paths they trod, 
The air resounded with their sweet 

Thanksgiving hymns to God ! 

While over all this peaceful scene, 

Through all the ambient air, 
A holy presence seemed to shed 

Its peaceful influence there. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 101 

A heavenly calm prevailed around ; 

My heart with joy o'erflowed ; 
I longed to make that paradise 

My future blest abode ! 

When lo ! before me soon there stood 

A being bright and fair ! 
Thick clustering o'er his shoulders fell 

A wealth of golden hair ; 
AVhile love, such as no mortal knows, 

Illumed his clear blue eyes ; 
I could not doubt the presence of 

An inmate of the skies ! 

Descending to his feet there flowed 

A robe of purest white, 
And radiate from his heavenly head 

Shone beams of living light ; 
He seemed to move within a sphere 

Of light and peace and love, 
Such as alone encompasses 

Perfected souls above ! 



102 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

But when he turned his love-lit eyes 

In steadfast gaze on me 
A tremor ran through all my frame 

From deep humility : 
Beneath that searching glance I knew 

My inmost heart lay bare : 
No skill could hide the record dark 

That sin had written there. 

And with conflicting hope and fear 

I hung upon each word, 
When thus, in accents soft and low. 

His gentle voice I heard : 
" If thou wouldst win these peaceful scenes 

For thine eternal home ; 
If to these realms of light and love 

Thy spirit yearns to come — 

*' Then strive, while yet thou hast the power. 
To choose the better part. 
And let thy loving Lord create 
In thee a purer heart ! 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 103 

From sin and self and worldly lusts 

Oh, set thy spirit free, 
And do to others as thou wouldst 

That they should do to thee. 

Forget not that the Master's voice 

Is ever heard within 
With silent, solemn warnings fraught 

To shun the paths of sin ! 
In times of doubt 'twill ever prove 

A sure, unerring guide. 
An anchor strong, a beacon bright 

Whenever storms betide ! 



*' No hopeless task for mortal aims 

Has God decreed shall be 
The talisman that opens wide 

The gates of heaven to thee ; 
But tread, with humble feet, the path 

The lowly Jesus trod : 
With justice act, and mercy love — 

Walk humbly with thy God !" 



104 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

His words sank deep within my heart ; 

In fear, I sought to pray ; 
When lo ! before my waking eyes 

The vision passed away ! 
'Twas all a dream ! but while I live 

Its teachings let me prize, 
That when this earthly life is o'er 

My soul to God may rise. 



OEIGUAL VERSES. 105 



INVITATION. 

TITHENE'ER by earthly cares oppressed, the 
' " wearied spirit faints 

And in the ear of Providence it murmurs sad com- 
plaints ; 

The welcome invitation comes, in loving language 
dressed : 

*' Come unto me ! ye weary, come, and I will give you 
rest. 

"Come unto me! all ye who toil, who heavy bur- 
dens bear ; 

Come ! and before my footstool cast your spirit-load 
of care : 

Take up my yoke and learn of me : my ways are 
just and right ; 

For easy is my yoke to bear ; my burden, it is light. 
14 



106 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

" Come unto me! all ye who mourn; your sorrows 

let me share : 
My strong right hand and outstretched arm are 

present everywhere ; 
Come! and be all your griefs assuaged, all doubts 

and fears repressed : 
In me, the meek and lowly heart, your souls shall 

find their rest." 

Let not this loving summons fall unheeded at your 
feet; 

Go, cast yourselves in humble fear before the mercy- 
seat; 

There's room for all — -God's heart is vast ! broad the 
Redeemer's breast ! 

Go unto Him ! ye weary, go ! and He will give you 
rest. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 107 



TO MARY.' 

QURELY your heart was glad when you penned 

^ the note that this morning 

Came Uke a welcome guest, as the sunlight broke o'er 

the meadows ; 
Bathing in glory the hills, and smiling and peaceful 

homesteads 
Thickly studding the slopes with their dark green 

background of forest ; 
Gilding the crest of the woods, albeit the twilight 

shadows 
Far in the hollows below with seeming reluctance yet 

lingered ; 
Shone on the rippling waves of the stream that winds 

in the distance. 
Rounding the base of the hills till lost to sight in the 

valley. 

1 Written in camp at Nottaway Court House, Va., August, 1864. 



108 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Lovely indeed is the earth in the early hours of the 

morning, 
When the new-born day spreads its radiance over the 

landscape. 
And nature emerges refreshened and smiling and 

joyous 
From the likeness of death the dark-robed night 

had cast round her : 
Then is the heart enjoined to pour forth its pseans of 

gladness, 
Thanksgiving songs to God, who, in infinite wisdom, 
Fashioned the lovely world and robed it in exquisite 

beauty, 
Giving his children the right to possess and inherit, 
Right to culture and till and enjoy the fruits of their 

labor. 
Blessed is he whose life fulfills the great end of crea- 
tion : 
Whose days are faitlifully spent in keeping God's 

holy commandments. 
Thus, for its home in lieaven, preparing the spirit 

immortal. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 109 



EVENING THOUGHTS. 

A NOTHEE day of mingled joy and grief 

To swell the records of the past hath flown ; 
The gathering twilight brings a glad relief, 
A soul-entrancing sweetness all its own. 

Here 'neath the welcome shadow let me rest, 
And sweet communion with my spirit hold ; 

While darkness draws a veil o'er Nature's breast, 
And silence reigns unbroken o'er the wold. 

Unbroken — save where yonder leafy spray 
O'erhangs the margin of the sleepless stream, 

The nightingale pours forth its varied lay 

Or through the woods the startled night-birds 
scream. 

In peaceful hamlets hushed the busy hum ; 

The cheerful homes their sturdy inmates hold ; 
The lowing herds from distant pastures come ; 

The bleating flocks now seek the welcome fold. 



130 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

From latticed windows, struggling through the gloom, 
In flickering streams, the ruddy firelight glows ; 

And merry laughter issuing from the room 
In soft and gentle ripples toward me flows. 

See where yon hill, in gloomy grandeur, rears 
Its wood-crowned summit to the eastern skies, 

The silver crescent of the moon appears. 
And bathed in beauty all the landscape lies. 

Beneath the solemn covering of the night. 
My thoughts revert to the departed day ; 

I ask them, is their record pure and bright ? 
Of good or evil, what report have they ? 

Of feebly made resolves, more feebly kept ; 

Or earnest zeal and warfare for the right ? 
The pliant conscience — has it basely slept, 

Or ruled its promptings by the '^ inward light?" 

Have envy, anger, malice, hatred, stained 
The precious moments of the fleeting day ? 

Or love toward God and all His works remained 
To keep my faltering footsteps in the way ? 



ORIGINAL VERSES. Ill 

The daily record let me thus review, 

And ask of God to grant my spirit power 

The coming day the contest to renew, 

With hope of victory ere its closing hour. 

For, in this season of communion sweet. 
The soul seems nearer to its Maker drawn ; 

And, strengthened by His presence, waits to greet 
With holier purpose the returning morn. 



CONSOLATION. 

T)E comforted ! ye stricken hearts. 
And let your mourning cease ; 
Your dear ones now are inmates of 

The joyous realms of peace ; 
The realms where their pure, spotless souls 

Eternal rest shall find, 
A happy and a kind release 

From cares they leave behind. 



112 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

And yet, although your friends have passed 

Beyond your loving care, 
And sadly mourns each tender heart 

The void remaining there ; 
The thought may consolation bring, 

While each its peace regains, 
That, losing all earth's pleasures, yet 

They also lose its pains. 

Ye may not thoughtlessly resent 

Your Maker's kind decree. 
Although it takes your cherished ones 

And sets their spirits free ; 
But rather should you gladly hail 

Their joy thus soon begun ; 
Your chastened hearts, resigned, exclaim, 

Thy will, O Lord ! be done. 

The providence of God is sure, 

His purposes are best ; 
And burdened hearts in that sweet trust 

May seek and find their rest. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 113 

Though bitter now t]»e iiugui^h he, 

Its sting will soon be past ; 
The darkest night must have an end 

And day will dawn at last. 

Then banish tears from every eye, 

The shadow from eacl) brow ; 
The hearts once closely knit with your^j 

Ye know are happy now 
In that fair land of light and love 

Where faithful souls are blest, 
The wicked cease from troubling, and 

The weary are at rest." 



SUPPLICATION. 

T ORD of the contrite hearts, turn thou thine ear 
-^ tons 

Now, while we yield our devotion to thee ; 
Oh make us feel that thy presence is near to us, 

While at the mercy-seat kneeling are we. 
15 



114 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Now we have reached thy feet, what shall we say to 
thee ? 

How for our follies and sins shall we plead ? 
Can we do better than earnestly pray to thee 

With us to be in each hour of our need ? 

Few are the words that thou need'st in our proffer- 
ings; 

Earnest intention and love are the test 
By which thou measur'st the worth of our offerings : 

Silent devotion to thee is the best. 

Turn we then, Lord, to thee, clothed in our meek- 
nesses, 
Whether in sorrow, in joy, or in pain : 
Knowing thy presence means strength in all weak- 
nesses. 
Seek we then alway thy presence to gain. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. IL 



THE INNER SANCTUARY. 

rpHERE is a holy temple, 

A sacred house of God ! 
By human hands not builded, 
By human feet ne'er trod. 

No voice of priest or preacher 
Is heard its aisles among, 

No lofty strains of music 
Within its walls are sung : 

No richly furnished altar 
Stands forth in vain array ; 

Through many-colored windows 
No tinted sunbeams play : 

But yet a wondrous structure ! 

Beyond all mortal art ; 
Its architect — Jehovah ! 

Its place — the human heart. 



116 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

This holy fane is open 
By night as well as day ; 

The Master bids us enter, 
He gently leads the way. 

He there is ever waiting 

Our worship to receive, 
Our fainting souls to strengthen, 

Our sorrows to relieve. 

There, in His holy presence, 
True peace alone we find, 

When, through its portals passing, 
We leave the world behind. 

That God may build His temple, 
Let us the place prepare : 

The human heart is heaven 

When the house of God is there. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 117 



A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

T O ! the star is in the sky ! 
-^ Hark ! the angel-heralds cry, 
Spread the tidings far and nigh, 
Christ is born to-day ! 

Heir of royal David's line ; 
Lineage yet more lofty thine, 
God and man in thee combine ; 
Christ with us to-day ! 

Heaven and earth in one are wed ; 
Angels guard the lowly bed : 
Cradling where the oxen fed 
Christ is born to-day ! 

Love unequalled, love intense ; 
Love exceeding thought and sense 
Gift divine proceeding thence, 
Christ with us to-day ! 



118 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Yes, he lays his glory by, 
Leaves his throne beyond the sky ; 
That his children may not die, 
Christ is born to-day ! 

Come and join the ransomed host ; 
Let not love like this be lost ; 
Think at what a fearful cost 
Christ is ours to-day ! 

Come, as came the Magi old ; 
At his feet your gifts unfold, 
Myrrh and frankincense and gold. 
For our Christ to-day ! 

" Peace on eartli, good will to men," 
Sang the herald-angels then ; 
Sing the joyous song again, 
Christ is born to-day ! 

Let the earth his advent prove 
By increasing gifts of love ; 
Malice, sin, and hate remove 
By his birth to-day ! 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 119 

Prove we all, this natal moriij 
Satan's bonds asunder torn ; 
By a heart renewed, is born 
Christ in us to-day ! 

See ! his star is in the sky. 
Hark ! the angel-heralds cry ; 
Spread the tidings far and nigh, 
Christ is born to-day ! 

Bells ! ring out the glad refrain ; 
Earth ! accordant voices train ; 
Heaven ! re-echo back the strain, 
Christ is born to-day ! 



120 GLEANINOS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE SHEPHERD OF ISRAEL. 

1 SRAEL'S Shepherd is watching his sheep : 
Naught can his vigilance ever withstand ; 
Never that Shepherd will slumber nor sleep ; 
Nothing can pluck his sheep out of his hand. 

Israel's Shepherd, so loving and good, 
Feedeth his sheep from a bountiful store : 

Happy the flock that partakes of this food — 
Harvest of love from the heavenly shore. 

Israel's Shepherd is calling his sheep ; 

Well do they know the loved tones of his voice; 
Gladly they follow, though thorny and steep, 

Dark and uncertain the way of his choice. 

Israel's Shepherd, so tender and kind, 
Gathers the little lambs close in his arm ; 

Weary ones, safe in his mantle entwined, 
Rest in that bosom so gentle and warm. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 121 

Israel's Shepherd is leading his sheep 

Down by the shining green pastures of love ; 

By the still waters their feet he will keep, 
Lead them at last to the Father above. 

Israel's Shepherd, so faithful and true, 
Doth he not call his sheep now as of old ? 

Listen ! oh yes, he is calling us too ; 
Come, let us hasten and enter the fold. 

Israel's Shepherd is tending his sheep ; 

Safely his flock may rest under his care ; 
Free from all danger his own he will keep, 

Nothing can harm them nor frighten them there. 



16 



122 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM. 

(Arranged for the Use of Schools.) 

"The Lord is my Shepherd." 

npHE Lord is my Shepherd, how sweet is the thought 
-*- That God iu his goodness is caring for me ! 
My wants and desires to his notice are brought, 
And all are fulfilled that may properly be. 



"lie maketh me to lie down in green pastures: lie leadeth 
me beside the still waters." 

With gentle persuasion he lures me to rest 

In virtue's green pastures and soft dewy meads ; 

With like tender care in each motion expressed 
By truth's crystal waters my willing feet leads. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 123 

" He restoreth my soul : he leadeth me in the paths of 
righteousness for his name's sake." 

And though I too often have wandered astray, 
Apparently lost to his love and his care ; 

How soon has he brought me again in the way 
And sought to continue my erring steps there. 



" Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
death, I will fear no evil." 

Though dangers may threaten on every hand, 
I cannot be fearful with God for my guide ; 

If even in death's darksome valley I stand, 
No harm can befall me witli him at my side. 



" For thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort 
me." 

The rod and the staff, those sweet emblems of 
power, 
Of power that is tempered by mercy and love ; 
Though dangers o'ertake me, though tempests \\ya\ 
lower. 
Alike my protection and comfort they prove. 



124 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

" Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine 
enemies." 

Though great is the mercy, exhaustless the love, 
The one faithful Shepherd displays for his sheep ; 

As rich are the blessings that roll from above. 
The stream of his bounty as constant and deep. 



"Thou anointest my head with oilj my cup runuoth 
over." 

If friends become wearied, unchanged is his care ; 

If others forsake me, his love flows the more ; 
The oil of his gladness streams down from my 
hair, 

With choicest of blessings my cup runneth o'er. 



" Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of 
my life." 

With such a true friend and protector as this, 

Ah, surely my life should be crowned with 
delight ; 

It cannot be else than a measure of bliss, 
If only my footsteps are ordered aright. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 125 

'^And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." 

And so, when at last the glad summons shall come 
That calls me away to the promised reward, 

My spirit will joyously enter its home 

Eternal and blest in the house of tlie Lord. 

"The Lord is my Shepherd; 1 shall not want." 

Yes, God is my Shepherd ! I will not forget 

The length and the breadth and the depth of his 
love, 

Hii^ guidance, protection, his bounty, nor yet 
The home everlasting in mansions above. 



126 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 



THE LORD'S PRAYER. 

/^UR Father who are art in heaven, 

" Hallowed be thy name ; 

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done 

In heaven and earth the same. 
Give us this day our daily bread, 

And all our sins forgive, 
As we forgiveness grant to them 

From whom we ill receive. 
Into temptation lead us not, 

From evil save us then : 
For kingdom, power, and glory are 

Forever thine. Amen. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. U7 



FAIRHILL. 

i S, reverently, tlie gates are passed 
^ That guard the " City of the Dead,' 
A shade is o'er the spirit cast, 

The voice is hushed, subdued the tread. 

The love of wealth, the pride of life, 
Ambition's aims, our love or hate, 

The hopes and fears of earthly strife, 
Our so-called fortune or our fate. 

Are all forgotten as we tread 
The portals of this silent realm ; 

The sad memorials ot the dead 

The living heart and hopes o'erwhelm. 



128 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

We feel how vain is all the thought 
We give to earth's too transient joys : 

How dearly is that pleasure bought 
Whose gain alone the mind employs. 

For if we make this earth our all 
And in its hope and promise trust, 

Ah, surely will the structure fall, 
As surely end in " dust to dust." 

But if an earnest care we take, 

With all the aids that God has given 

With ever bounteous hand, to make 
This earth a stepping-stone to heaven ; 

If heart and hopes are fixed above, 
Are centred on the higher life ; 

If wealth and place, if fame and love 
Are made subservient to the strife 

We wage for higher, holier joy, 

Our doubts will cease — dissolve, our cares 
If godlike aims the soul employ. 

This place for us no terror wears. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 129 

Our faith secure, we know no fear ; 

This thought alone full comfort gives — 
The body only slumbers here, 

The man himself forever lives. 



Thus deep in thought I slowly trace my way, 
Where, clustering thickly, lie the graves around ; 

While solemn feelings o'er my senses play 

With careful feet I tread the hallowed ground. 

The whirr of insects and the hum of bees ; 

The softened footfalls on the verdant sward ; 
The gentle rustling of the wind-swept trees ; 

The mourners' whispered accents that record 

To willing ears the oft-told tale of love, 

Of dear, departed friends, whose mouldering clay 

Beneath them lies ; but in the realms above 

Whose souls, perhaps, may list to what they say : 

These, only, break the silence of the place ; 

Yet hardly break : 'twere nearer truth to say, 
By these the perfect stillness w^e can trace ; 

Its solemn depths, by contrast, they convey. 
17 



130 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

Ye flowers ! that bloom in sweet profusion here, 
The air is teeming with your perfumed breath ; 

Life's happy dwellings doth your presence cheer, 
You beautify the sad abodes of death. 

Ah ! what a tale of mingled joy and woe. 

To thoughtful minds, these lowly mounds convey : 

The modest headstones tell Avho lie below ; 
But is this all the brief inscriptions say ? 

Alas ! what broken hopes lie buried there ; 

What thwarted aims, what longings vmfulfilled ! 
And yet, how many hearts released from care ; 

How many restless, weary spirits stilled ! 

They tell of partings ; hearts of hearts bereft ; 

Of lives whose brightness died with those they 
mourn : 
They also tell of earthly sorrows left 

For glad awakening in an endless morn. 

They tell of vacant seats in lonely homes, 

Of voids in aching hearts that naught can fill ; 

They whisper to the heart that solace comes 
Together with the mandate " Peace, be still !" 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 131 

To him who stands beside the graves where rest 

The mortal frames of those whose hearts in life 

Were closely linked with his, there comes, perchance, 

A feeling, indefinable and strange. 

That fills his heart and spreads its genial warmth 

Through all his being ; 'neath its loving sway 

He seems once more to hold communion sweet 

With those dear spirits which, in years gone by. 

Did animate the forms that slumber there. 

So potent is the God-breathed spirit — Love ! 

Immortal in its essence, and divine. 

By place and time and matter uncontrolled : 

It links the present and the past, the seen 

And unseen, the unknown and the known ; 

And draws together in a holy bond 

Those who have passed beyond this narrow sphere 

And those who still its joys and sorrows know. 



The hours speed on ; the sun is sinking fast. 
His glory veiling in the western sky ; 

Thy beauty, Fairhill, for the day, is past, 

The lengthening shadows on thy greensward lie. 



132 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

With lingering feet the peaceful scene I leave, 
My spirit chastened by its sojourn there : 

A hallowing sense of Nearness I perceive ; 
A holy Presence hovers in the air. 

I hear no voice, I see no form, but yet 
A sacred impress on my heart is made ; 

For where the living and the dead are met 
The grosser things of earth aside are laid. 

The spirit needs must outward, upward reach ; 

Its inmost depths beneath that touch expand : 
That Presence and this impress do but teach 

That, dead or living, we are in His hand. 

Assured of that one truth we live, resigned 
To pay the debt that all who live must pay ; 

And with our hearts toward God and heaven inclined. 
Await the dawning of eternal day ! 



ORIGINAL VERSES, 133 



THE CHAIN OF ENGLISH SONG. 

TTE poets of the English tongue ! 
From Chaucer's ancient time 
The ages on your lips have hung 
And gloried in your rhyme. 

Ye seers that bring in glowing verse 
The thoughts of God to men, 

And His deep mysteries rehearse 
In words within our ken ; 

We feel your presence, own your power, 
Your power our souls to move. 

Our hearts with high resolves endower 
To be — to do — to love ! 

No subtler charm the world contains 
Than yours, which God employs 

To soothe our sorrows, ease our pains, 
And amplify our joys. 



134 GLEANINGS FRO 31 POETIC FIELDS. 

We thank Him for your uoble line ; 

We glory in your toil ; 
We cull with lavish hand and twine 

Your beauties in a coil. 

Unquenchedj undimmed, your fame shall flow 

As roll the years along ; 
And, lengthening with the ages, grow 

The chain of English Song. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 135 



THE DAYS OF LONG AGO. 

f\ll ! sweet it is, at times, to dream 
^ Of the days of long ago ; 
When life was young, and hope was high, 
And the heart knew naught of woe. 

The storms of life were yet to come 

And its victories and defeats : 
But what cares youth for hidden thorns 

While it gathers only sweets ? 

And if, perchance, some shadows fall 

On its happy, sunlit way. 
It gives them but a passing thought. 

For its heart knows only day. 

Life's stream runs on, in youth's glad hours. 
As the brook that gayly speeds 

Along a broken, rocky bed. 

And its roughness scarcely heeds : 



136 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

A ripple here, a struggle there 

Where the rocks too rugged grow ; 

But still, alike, in blithesome glee, 
Ever youth and brooklet flow. 

Ah, happy days ! though dear the scenes 
That in memory's glass I see, 

I would not yield for them the joys 
That the present holds for me. 

Yet when the eve of life is reached 
And we face its winter's snow, 

'Tis sweet to let the mind go back 
To the days of long ago. 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 137 



SCHOOL DAYS AT OXFORD. 

T DREAM of the days when, in youth, I roamed 

Through those dear old Oxford streets, 
And gazed on the marvels of art and grace 

That ever the glad eye meets ; 
On college and hall and stately tower, 

All hoary and scarred with age. 
And peopled by many of those whose names 

Are written on history's page. 

As Magdalen's beautiful bridge I cross 

I gaze on the stream below ; 
Ah ! many the scenes of a boy's delight 

That through memory's chambers flow. 
I stroll through the wonderful street called High, 

That never has known a peer ; 
The buildings that border its stately breadth 

Have, each one, some memory dear. 
18 



138 GLEANINGS FROM POETIC FIELDS. 

I wander again on the grassy banks 

Of beautiful Isis' stream ; 
The cheers of the crowd as the boats shoot past 

Oome back to me like a dream. 
The 'Varsity barge with its merry crew, 

And flaunting its colors gay, 
The skiffs that by muscular arms are rowed — 

I picture them all to-day. 

I also recall with what venturous glee 

I, too, o'er its bosom fared, 
Or passed the big locks in a fragile shell 

And blindly their perils dared. 
Sweet river ! I view with delight the scenes 

By memory's pencil traced. 
Of village and lock and of emerald fields 

Where swiftly thy waters raced. 

Ah ! Iffley and Sandford and Nuneham ! names 
That wealth of sweet memories hold ! 

And Iffley's dear church with its Norman arch 
That dates from the Conqueror bold ! 



ORIGINAL VERSES. 139 

Fair Oxford ! historical fields lie rich 

Surrounding thy towers gray, 
And legend and tale in profusion wait 

Wherever the footsteps stray. 

But foremost among the dear scenes of youth 

Doth memory give a place 
To that precious spot to which source so much 

Of my boyhood's joys I trace : 
Rose Hill ! 'tis to thee and thy inmates dear 

My kindliest thoughts will tend, 
Till meeting again in the realms, dear hearts, 

Where friendship shall know no end. 

Oh ! dear are the dreams of our boyhood's days, 

And sweet are the joys recalled 
To hearts that keep touch with the things of youth 

And whose senses are never palled 
With life and its losses and gains ; but true 

To each well-loved boyhood scene. 
They till a deep spot in their heart of hearts 

And keep it forever green. 



W 19 








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